My Testimony...with a bit of details and all truth

Great...lets see...where to start....the beginning is good.

I'm about 6 and my big brother, Jeff Cooper, is over babysitting. He's not a blood-relative, I've known him for years. He's not the greatest guy on the planet and like every single guy on the planet, he messes up. Only he messes with a 6 year-old girl. He has seizures and doesn't remember a single thing about this encounter, but my mind on guys went down really far. It might be too much info, but I am unsure, even today about my virginity. Moving along.
I was made fun of in my elementary days, going from a private to a public school is hard. I was used to being sheltered and surrounded by Christians everyday, then I get shipped to a school that you have to earn a reputation. I bonded closely with a special education girl, who still takes the brunt of many idiotic numb-skulls. Goes home crying everyday, poor kid. Anyway, I met a girl named Lindsay and we were best of friends. That was the hardest thing in the world to do...letting her go. That's when the eating thing started, 6th grade I think. Throughout middle school, I had one thought on my mind: suicide. Everyday, hour, minute, you name it. I was pretty much in my own world, not many close friends. Skipping over to high school.
There was this boy...it's always like this, isn't it? Patrick King.
I gave him everything, except the thing I wasn't certain on, but ya know what I mean. My mind was his, heart, soul, fears of Jeff, and my secrets belonged to him. He broke up with me because I was emotionally unbalanced, his dad was dying, and he just didn't love me anymore. He lied to me continuously about everything, making up all that I wanted to hear. My first kiss was with him, first date too. I kept remembering those moments, so tender then, hating them now. I just became numb. Just breathing, but not alive, ya know? It's hard to describe what numb means. I talked with him and he goes off and says he still loves me, but it was all a lie to hurt me. He did it to cause me pain, and it almost killed me. I went to Kanakuk a few weeks after that, Hayley had her hands full with me, let me tell ya. I just didn't care. She led me to Christ down by the lake at the old church, it was a great triumphic moment. I thought, just maybe, I have been saved a horrible end, but no. Patrick found me again and I believed the story. It hurt to bad to breathe. For another time, suicide was another was to escape, too good to be true. Crash and burn, crash and burn. I hated God for everything. Blamed him for creating me, wished he threw away the mold. I cried out for mercy and help, did I recieve it? Not a word. Thinking I was abandoned by the one person I could can't on to be there as a child, I was left at home with a large hunting knife. I have no scars to show, but the wounds in my heart hurt deep enough. It did hurt really bad. I sought out mentors and asked them questions about God and if he had ever abandoned them. They said he had never left them, so I thought it was me. I hate being the odd-duck. It really suxs. I just don't like standing out. I just mainly wanted to disappear and hopefully be forgotten. But I wasn't. The next year at Kamp, I was struggling to keep food down and I hated God with a passion. You, Kate, and Mackenzie, made me rethink what was going on in my life and...what was wrong. There is something wrong here, but I know God has a plan for me. He loves me. And I Him. I rededicated my life to Christ and I have never felt happier.


In my heart, I have a song in there. Here is some of the lyrics,"Too many years, Fighting these tears, Why can't the past just die?" Yes, it's from Phantom of the Opera. But I realize, my past can help others. I hate my past, but if it can save lives, so be it.